For something my family originally knew nothing about, the sport of hockey has given me everything. I step on the ice everyday thankful I was given the chance to play hockey. It has provided me with my best friends -- some of whom I would call family --, opportunity, education, life lessons and so much more.
But how can something that feels so close to me also make me feel so different?
At age 10, I was called a N***** for the first time by an opposing player.
At age 17, I stayed back on the bus after a hockey game while everyone else got off to grab something to eat because the area we stopped in was known to be racially confrontational.